Best of Friends
by feathery-fire
Summary: "Don't you have anything better to do?" "Slytherins are my something better to do." Lucy Weasley wants to befriend all the Slytherins to scandalize her uptight father, and Gregory Nott is pretty sure he doesn't want to be friends. One-shot.


"Hey, wake up!"

The only answer was a garbled grunt that sounded suspiciously like 'Leave me alone.'

The corners of Lucy Weasley's lips twitched downward. She leaned closer to the sleeping boy until her face was above his. With a precision that suggested practice, a sliver of spit worked its way out of her lips until it hung in a long, thin line- dangerously close to the boy's cheek. With a small giggle, she let the spit fall, before quickly moving back to her original position. For a moment it looked like the boy hadn't noticed.

"What the hell?" He sat straight up, the blankets pooling around him. His hands flew to his face, and he grimaced when they came back wet.

Lucy's smile was devilish. "Isn't it a wonderful night, Greggy? I thought I'd drop in for a visit."

"Lucy?"

"I'd say the one and only, except there's some smarmy Hufflepuff girl called Lucy too."

"Lucy! I'm not wearing anything. I mean, I'm not... That is to say, I'm not-"

"I know."

Gregory looked horrified.

"Oh, stop it, I only looked for a minute, and that's not the question you should be asking. Ask me how I got in here. Come on now, ask me."

A dazed expression had taken over Gregory's features as his fingers grasped the blankets and pulled them up and around his previously uncovered torso.

Lucy sighed. "Fine, I'll do it instead." She cleared her throat, her voice lowered to a more masculine timbre. "So, Lucy, however did you sneak into the Slytherin dormitories? You must be some kind of genius!" After a pause she continued, her voice returned to normal. "Why thank you, Gregory, I do like to think of myself as a genius. As for how I got in, well, it was quite the project, let me tell you. First, I had to find a Slytherin that hadn't heard of me and-"

Over the course of Lucy speaking, Gregory's eyes had sharpened and his mouth no longer hung open as if struck dumb. "What are you doing here?" He hissed.

"See, Greggy, I already told you. I came by to visit."

"At two in the morning?"

"It's actually closer to three."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Slytherins are my something better to do."

"Go pick another Slytherin to bother, then."

"I can't. I'm going through all of you in a very systematic manner."

"Really?"

"Really." Lucy said, nodding seriously.

"Why?"

"I want to be friends."

Gregory fell back onto the bed and groaned. He was hoping she would give him a different answer, because he could give her money, clothes, anything instead of friendship. He did not want to be friends with the annoying Lucy Weasley. Other Slytherins had cracked, some more than others. He had seen them, having conversations with her, smiling even. It seemed an impossible feat, to be able to smile at the ugly sweater-wearing and scruffy red-haired Weasley. Yet, Gregory knew he was cracking too. When she had first set her sights on him, he had hexed her without a backward glance, and now? He hadn't even truly yelled at her.

Lucy watched as Gregory's face flickered between one emotion and another as she slid closer until she was laying next to him, her body above the covers and her face hovering above the pillow.

"Friends do favors for each other. For instance, Greggy, I want to take a Slytherin home with me for Christmas Break. My father would be so scandalized. I'm sure there's something I can do for you in return."

"Could you leave me alone?"

"Friends spend time together."

"I'm taking that's a no, then?"

Lucy just smiled.

Gregory pulled the blanket over his head, wondering what would happen if he just tried to go back to sleep. Maybe it was all a dream. A horrible, horrible dream. A nightmare, really.

He peeked over the blanket. Lucy was still there and, if anything, appeared to be closer.

"Do you need help coming up with a favor, Greggy?" She purred, tugging the pillow closer to her.

Shuddering, Gregory shook his head. "How about you stop calling me that." He glanced down at the pillow that was slowly inching away from him. "And don't be a pillow hog."

The ginger widened her eyes, as if trying to appear innocent. The effect was ruined by the churlish tilt of her grin. "I do believe that this pillow was meant for one Lucy Wisdom Weasley, and would you look at that? That's my name." She yanked the pillow out from under his head, and hugged it to her chest. "Mine."

"Pillow thief."

"Yep," Lucy said, unabashed. "And about that favor, let me give you a nice little list. I could do your homework, hex someone you don't like, dye my sister's hair chartreuse, leave nice graffiti about you in the bathrooms, get you out of-"

"I don't think-"

"Oh, you're right, some of those are things I do normally. Has the bathroom graffiti worked for you? I left a great little blurb in one of the stalls on the third floor."

Gregory didn't quite know what to say.

Snuggling closer, Lucy batted her eyelashes. "Or are you a pervy Slytherin, Greggy? Some of your peers wanted _special_ favors, and we can do that if you'd like. I do love Slytherins."

One of her hands reached for the edge of the blanket that was still just above Gregory's nose, his eyes wide as cauldrons. When her fingertips brushed against his cheek he let out a startled yelp, and tumbled out of bed.

Lucy blinked, momentarily stunned, before she began to laugh and found she could not stop. She leaned over the edge of the bed, tossing down the pillow to appease his sense of modesty.

"Y-you should have..." She chortled. "Should have s-seen your face!"

Cheeks red as apples, Gregory clutched the pillow against himself. "I don't need a favor! I'll do whatever you want without one!"

The laughter abruptly stopped, and Lucy's eyes turned from gleeful to calculating. "Oh, Greggy, I can tell we're going to be the best of friends." With those words, she slid off the other side of the bed and sashayed out of the dormitory, humming a song that sounded suspiciously like victory.

Gregory looked down at himself- on the floor, covered only by a pillow- and gulped.


End file.
